Latest news with #tattooing
CBC
3 days ago
- Business
- CBC
How an oversaturated tattoo market is hurting some professional Montreal artists
When Hans Deslauriers isn't tattooing clients in his studio twice a week, he's painting to help scratch his creative itch and pay his bills while dealing with a major slump in clients. It wasn't always this way for the Montrealer who's been tattooing professionally for over a decade. "I used to do six days a week of tattooing, but if I still relied on that … and waited for customers, I would have depression," he said. For the first time in his career, he says there's a major slowdown for artists. For those looking to get tattoos, Montreal is often considered a top destination. The city attracts some of the country's best artists, and there's tons of studios to choose from. But some tattoo professionals have noticed too many artists and not enough skin to go around, as of late. In an oversaturated tattooing market, the rising costs of running a business are forcing some professionals to adapt or even step back from the profession. "I see people leaving the industry, who've been [tattooing] for years and years because it's no longer viable," said Deslauriers. "It's the first time in 12 years that I see a slowdown like that in the industry." Too many artists, not enough clients The industry was thriving right before the world shut down, says David Côté, who goes by David Peyote. He has been tattooing for 14 years. "Pre-pandemic, tattoos were at its peak," said Peyote. The lockdown put everyone's life on pause, but it also gave people the opportunity to try new hobbies – bread-making, crochet, gardening. Some got into tattooing, he says. "It just became a bit more of their vocation, questioning their life choices like, 'hey, am I really happy at work? I think I can quit work to pursue tattooing full time'," said Peyote. "It led to an increase … of artists being part of the scene." In Quebec, the tattoo industry is not regulated. There's no formal training, barriers to buy the equipment, or specific health regulations to follow, though some shops have individual requirements. This wave of new artists proved useful at first, because when lockdown ended, there was no shortage of people seeking tattoos. But after a couple of years, demand started to slow. People got their tattoo fix, and the increased cost of living turned people away from these purchases, says Peyote. "The demand and supply are kind of met," he said. "There's too many artists." Costs for tattoo materials doubling, say artists Increased competition is not the only factor contributing to this shift, says Deslauriers. The cost of living has gone up significantly. In Montreal, asking rents have gone up nearly 71 per cent since 2019. "Being tattooed is a luxury for sure. So if you have to cut somewhere, it will be on tattoos," said Deslauriers. For artists, the materials alone are costing much more he says. Before the pandemic, he says gloves were $7 a box. Then, it went up to $30 during the pandemic. Right now, they cost about $12, says Deslauriers. "That's almost double already, and that's just the gloves," he said. "The ink doubled, everything has doubled." And there's a limit on how much artists can increase their prices to make up for it, he says. 'It's harder to reach people' Social media became a huge tool for tattoo artists to connect and reach prospective clients, said Peyote. But with time, it made people less keen to research tattoo artists. Where you once had to find them through magazines, blogs or conventions, he says they're now all in one place. "We're no longer researching much. We're no longer trying to find things. We're just being fed things," he said. For Peyote, it's all about adapting to this new reality. Those who love the craft will find a way to continue, he says. "It's important to be able to kind of go with the times and figure out what's your strategy to overcome this puzzle that's happening right now," he said. Keeping up with social media has also become its own job. Most studios can't hire a content creator, says Deslauriers. Five years ago, he says algorithms used to be easy to work but now have to fight for a place in people's explore page. "No one sees your stuff, it's harder to reach people," he said. "Before, you didn't need to put [in] any money, no effort, nothing. You put a photo, it was settled. But now, you need to put in money, you need to put in advertising." Although the industry is evolving right now, Deslauriers says it's not dying. "The tattoo.. will never die," he said.
Yahoo
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
How WWII brought about the normalization of tattoos
During his third Pacific voyage beginning in 1776, Capt. James Cook recorded in his journal: 'The universality of tattooing is a curious subject for speculation….' Today, however, getting inked as a member of the U.S. military is a borderline rite of passage, so much so, writes J.D. Simkins, that the 'military culture to tattooing is so prevalent that finding an ink-free service member is infinitely more rare than the alternative.' But that is a relatively new phenomenon. The U.S. military — and society's — embracing and liberalization surrounding the stigma and regulations governing tattoos is thanks, in large part, to the Second World War. The vast expansion of Naval personnel at the onset of WWII ushered in a new era of the tatted tradition, helped by figures like artist Norman Keith Collins — also known as Sailor Jerry. After the attack on Pearl Harbor, soldiers, sailors and new recruits alike lined tattoo parlors to receive their permanent symbols of pride, patriotism — and pinups. The emergence of tattoos While Capt. Cook's Pacific voyages exposed Royal Navy sailors to Polynesian body art, such traditions were practiced in early societies in Europe and Asia, and by indigenous cultures worldwide for thousands of years, according to the Naval History and Heritage Command. Cook's exploration of the Pacific, however, did popularize the tradition among his fellow seamen in both Europe and the Americas. So much so that by the 18th century, a third of British and a fifth of American sailors sported at least one tattoo. During the American Civil War, men in both the Union and Confederate navies often were tatted with military insignia motifs and names of their sweethearts back home. After the March 1862 Battle of the Ironclad — the historic clash between the USS Monitor and the CSS Virginia — requests for tattoos to commemorate the historic engagement were seen on both sides of the Mason-Dixon line. By the 1898 Spanish-American War, 'Remember the Maine' was a popular choice to be emblazoned on the chests of sailors who were going off to war. 'By this time,' writes Naval Heritage and History Command, 'these tattoos had already acquired features recognized today as essential elements of military and patriotic tattoos: the curved scroll with a slogan, name, or date; the stars and stripes; or a giant eagle backdrop — many of them proliferated thanks to the newly invented electric tattoo machine.' During World War I servicemen were getting their military ID numbers, and later social security numbers, tattooed on their bodies as a means of identification in case they were injured or killed in service. This practice was outright banned during WWII on the grounds that it might give 'aid and comfort to the enemy.' Despite this, body art remained firmly on the fringes of society well into the 20th century. Tattoos in World War II After the American declaration of war on Dec. 8, 1941, Honolulu and the port of San Diego became major hubs for men, and occasionally some women, to get inked. During the war, Honolulu alone boasted eight parlors and 33 operators gaining 'the dubious title of the world's tattoo center,' according to a June 16, 1944, Highland Recorder article. In particular, 25-year-old Hawaiian native Eugene Miller of 'Miller's Tattooing Emporium' saw his business boom, tattooing over 300 people a day with prices ranging from 25 cents for small pieces to $30 for larger, more intricate art. A large sign above his modest parlor declared him the 'world's greatest and youngest tattoo artist.' Bert Grimm, known as the 'godfather of modern tattoos,' spent over two decades perfecting his craft in St. Louis, Missouri. During the war, the famed tattoo artist — who is rumored to have worked on the infamous Bonnie and Clyde — painstakingly etched symbols of love and belief of God and country onto countless sailors and soldiers waiting to go to battle. But, Grimm noted, the two often sought differing inked motifs. In 1942, Grimm told the St. Louis Post-Dispatch: 'The main difference between the soldiers and sailors is that when a sailor comes in to get tattooed, it's always something with an anchor or a battleship, and the soldiers go more for flags and eagles. I've been watching their tastes and drawing new designs to suit them. Oh yes, sweetheart and love designs are going good now, too. [...] And here's a Red Cross Nurse; they lost out in popularity but they are back now. 'The war,' the article continued, 'has also been responsible for shortages of tattoo equipment. All the tattoo needles are made in England... Also, although tattoo artists usually don't mention it to servicemen patrons, most of the darkest and richest tattoo dyes came from Germany.' For servicemen willing and perhaps expecting to lose their lives, tattoos were worn as a badge of honor — giving a sense of comradery and, as Danielle Boiardi, the curator of the Lyle Tuttle Tattoo Art Collection, notes in an interview with the Smithsonian, 'a permanent mark that they could take with them.' Since then, the acceptance and proliferation of tattoos has spiked both in America and abroad, with U.S. Navy remaining the least restrictive among U.S. branches of service in terms of body art. Naval tattoo meanings, per the Naval History and Heritage Command: Anchor: Originally indicated a mariner who had crossed the Atlantic. In the present day, an anchor in one form or another may be the first nautical tattoo a young sailor acquires (often during his or her first liberty from boot camp) and is essentially an initiation rite into the naval service. Braided rope/line: Usually placed around left wrist; indicates a deck division seaman. Chinese/Asian dragon: Symbolizes luck and strength — originated in the pre–World War II Asiatic Fleet and usually indicated service in China. Much later, dragons came to symbolize WESTPAC service in general (also worn embroidered or as patches inside jumper cuffs and on cruise jackets). Compass rose or nautical star: Worn so that a sailor will always find his/her way back to port. Crossed anchors: Often placed on the web between left thumb and forefinger; indicate a boatswain's mate or boatswain (U.S. Navy rating badge). Crossed ship's cannon or guns: Signify naval vice merchant service; sometimes in combination with a U.S. Navy–specific or patriotic motif. Crosses: In many variations — worn as a sign of faith or talisman. When placed on the soles of the feet, crosses were thought to repel sharks. Dagger piercing a heart: Often combined with the motto 'Death Before Dishonor' — symbolizes the end of a relationship due to unfaithfulness. Full-rigged ship: In commemoration of rounding Cape Horn (antiquated). Golden Dragon: Indicated crossing the international dateline into the 'realm of the golden dragon' (Asia). 'Hold Fast' or 'Shipmate': Tattooed across knuckles of both hands so that the phrases can be read from left to right by someone standing opposite. Originally thought to give a seaman a firm grip on a ship's rigging. Hula girl and/or palm tree: On occasion, hula girls would be rendered in a risqué fashion; both tattoos indicated service in Hawaii. Pig and rooster: This combination — pig on top of the left foot, rooster on top of the right — was thought to prevent drowning. The superstition likely hearkens back to the age of sail, when livestock was carried onboard ships. If a ship was lost, pigs and roosters — in or on their crates — floated free. Shellback turtle: Indicates that a Sailor has crossed the equator. 'Crossing the line' is also indicated by a variety of other themes, such as fancifully rendered geo-coordinates, King Neptune, mermaids, etc. Ships' propellers (screws): A more extreme form of Sailors' body art: One large propeller is tattooed on each buttock ('twin screws') to keep the bearer afloat and propel him or her back to home and loved ones. Sombrero: Often shown worn by a girl. May have indicated service on ships home-ported in San Pedro (Terminal Island, Los Angeles) or San Diego prior to World War II, a liberty taken in Tijuana, or participation in interwar Central and South American cruises. Swallow: Each rendition originally symbolized 5,000 nautical miles underway; swallows were and still are displayed in various poses, often in combination with a U.S. Navy —specific motif or sweetheart's/spouse's name. Solve the daily Crossword
Wall Street Journal
06-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Wall Street Journal
‘Dinner With King Tut' Review: The Taste of Ancient Egypt
The science writer Sam Kean's all-in approach to research is evident not only from the ink on the pages of his books but from the ink on his skin. In 'Dinner With King Tut: How Rogue Archaeologists Are Re-creating the Sights, Sounds, Smells, and Tastes of Lost Civilizations,' Mr. Kean spends time with various specialists devoted to understanding the lives of our distant ancestors. In the course of his travels, he makes stone tools, tans leather, mummifies a fish and renders seal blubber into oil. The depth of the writer's commitment is tested when he meets with a Southern Californian tattooist proficient in ancient methods of body art. While he is, in his own words, 'not a tattoo guy,' the author feels obligated to submit to the artist's needle, settling on a small asterisk on his thigh. 'Given how universal tattooing was in prehistory, I realized I'd always have a gap in my understanding of life unless I sucked it up and got a hand-poked tattoo myself,' he writes, referring to the manual method some experts believe was used to ink Ötzi, a 5,300-year-old mummy discovered in the Alps. Traditional archaeology holds little appeal for Mr. Kean. He recalls time spent at archaeological digs, where he observed practitioners meticulously sifting through dirt, as 'such a letdown, the most godawful tedium I could imagine.' He's instead drawn to the burgeoning subfield of experimental archaeology (also known as experiential or living archaeology), whose adherents attempt to accurately replicate elements of ancient people's lives. Each chapter of this lively book covers a specific time and place, beginning 75,000 years ago on the African savanna and concluding with 16th-century Mexico. Stops along the way include ancient Egypt, Imperial Rome, Viking Europe and medieval China. Each chapter presents an overview of life during the period and introduces the experimental archaeologists Mr. Kean meets in his travels. (Some, it should be said, aren't technically archaeologists but are, in the author's fond description, 'screwball enthusiasts.')
Telegraph
14-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Telegraph
Sex Pistols tattooist's death triggers inheritance row over ‘secret' daughter
Cockell, who was originally from Worcester, rose to prominence in the 1980s tattooing musicians such as Jones and members of Stray Cats and Bananarama at his London studios in Finchley Road and later Soho's Diamond Jack's. As his tattoo career came to an end, he took on another role as an 'odd-job man at Buckingham Palace' and was paid £14,500 a year for his efforts towards the upkeep of the Royal estate, a court heard. He married his wife in 1982 and they lived in a £900,000 house in Mill Hill, north London. His wife was unaware of his child from a previous relationship, Cindylee Cockell, who filed a claim for 'reasonable provision' from his estate after his death. 'Overwhelming grief' Giving evidence via a videolink from Sydney, Cindylee Cockell claimed she needed a payout because the 'overwhelming grief' of her father's death had left her so depressed and anxious she was unable to work. She told the judge that she had been two years old when she learned that Cockell was her father. She said she had visited him in London four times before his death and claimed he promised her a £23,000-a-year receptionist job in one of his tattoo parlours. The court heard she was now on 'Australian Jobseekers Allowance' having been signed off by her doctor as incapable of working for 'years' due to severe 'anxiety and depression' following the death of her father, and her mother a few months later. She told the court: 'The death of my father and mother had a devastating effect on my day to day life. 'I have anxiety and depression which have been exacerbated by overwhelming grief.' 'Never been financially dependent' Cockell's widow is fighting the claim and says she could be forced to sell her home if she is ordered to make the payout her late husband's daughter wants. Her barrister Nicholas Michael denied that Cindylee Cockell was incapable of work and insisted the estate owes her nothing. He said: 'Cindylee was estranged from the deceased until she was eight. 'After that she only met him on a few sporadic occasions and she has never been financially dependent on the deceased.' He called for the claim to be dismissed. Judge Deputy Master Timothy Bowles is expected to reserve his decision in the case until a later date.
